Catching Snowflakes
by Inuzuka-93
Summary: Draco's smiles don't mean anything except around a certain Hermione Granger. If only that girl was me...Heartbreak isn't fatal if the one you love is happy. ONESHOT. Dramione. Pansy Parkinson. R&R please.


_**AN: Heartbreak isn't fatal if the one we love is happy.**_** ONESHOT.**

**Catching Snowflakes**

Draco smiles at me with sad eyes again. It's like he actually thinks I believe him when he says he's happy. I know better. Always have. Draco doesn't smile for just anyone and anyone lucky enough to receive one is probably better off without his half-hearted attempts. There are times when I think he finally means it but then I see it and my heart sinks as always. That lifeless look is in his eyes when he talks to me; when he talks to anyone.

When Draco Malfoy says he loves me, he's telling me I'm a good friend; that he cares about me but not in the way I care about him. He took me to the Yule ball in fifth year and I knew – I just knew things were changing. My heart fluttered like the butterflies we used to catch when we were children; my heart fluttered like the day I fell in love with him. But that night, at the Yule ball, Draco's eyes were on someone else and I made an oath to myself that if I couldn't have him, I would do everything in my power to make him happy; to chase away the sad grey from his silver eyes.

This year is the year it happens. I know it. I've been watching and, slowly, things are starting to change. I've stopped thinking about trying to make him fall for me and I've started the painful journey of letting my boy go, knowing that in letting go of my love for him, he can find the happiness he deserves even if it is with..._her._

We're walking through the grounds. They're covered in snow and I see them sitting together: Potter and his cronies, Weasley and _Granger. _I swallow the bile that rises in my throat as Draco insists on going over to speak to them. The selfish little girl in me wishes we could go back to first year and hate each other all over again but I know there's no place for thoughts like that anymore. We're all mature enough now to see past petty name calling and, as it turns out, the golden trio are painfully good company.

The world falls silent as I watch him being his charming self, joking and pushing the white-blond fringe from his eyes; watching her giggle and flush a genuine pink as he flashes his smile. My heart sinks as I see the flicker of happiness in his eye that I've never been able to draw out from him as she responds to his humour and in that moment, I want to tear him away from them; I want to drag him to the common room where they can't follow us and curl up in his arms...

"You're white as a sheet, Parkinson," Potter comments, laughing, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, Potter," I lie, "I'm just great."

I want to scream; I want to run away as his hand floats to caress her cheek as we say our goodbyes. The desperate side of me wants to take comfort in the fact that they are not a couple. They're just good friends, I naively tell myself. She's no better than I am and he only wants friendship. Yes, that's it. Draco, meanwhile, is whistling happily beside me – he never whistles unless he's seen her. He never does much of anything unless he's seen her and anything he _does _do seems to carry the intention of impressing her. I want to cry.

"Hey, Pansy," he says as if he's been trying to get my attention. He laughs at the blush on my cheeks as I acknowledge him. "I'm going to the library for a while. I'll catch up with you later."

I nod in agreement and watch him walk off up the grand staircase to the third floor. He spends so much of his time in there nowadays as if hoping he'll run into her. I try to tell myself that he has to be happy and that I should be happy _for _him but it's just so goddamn hard when there's no hope left for me. I run for the rest of my journey down to the dungeons and before long I'm in the girl's dormitory, alone.

And this is the routine I manage to follow for the rest of term, right up until Christmas which I've been particularly looking forward to. Every Christmas, my family and Draco's get together and celebrate. It's always been something special and it's something that she'll never be part of and – whilst I _want_ to be happy for Draco – I can't help but be satisfied by this. To have my best friend back for three whole weeks without any chance of him disappearing to be with her is living paradise for me – especially since it is the last Christmas of its kind that we will have. Draco intends to leave and join the fight _against _the dark lord as soon as the year is over. Of course I'm going with him: I could never leave him to do something so stupid and reckless on his own. I suppose, the only reason he hasn't already left is for me: I told him I needed time to say my goodbyes and this was it. The memories of this last Christmas are all I will have left to remind me of the good times and I need to make the most of that.

We've developed a routine of sorts over the years, when it comes to the Christmas break. We always meet at the station in Hogsmeade where he'll laugh at my lateness and blame my being a girl and I'll act all embarrassed and we'll take the train home together. This time it's more than that, however, this is the _last_ time we will take the train home together – _ever. _When I get to the station my usual ten minutes late, he's not there.

I'm standing waiting in the snow. The train has pulled into the station and Draco is nowhere to be seen. The final whistle has blown and an owl has glided into view – I recognise it as Draco's of course. It swoops over my head and drops a scroll of parchment into my numb, outstretched fingers. I carefully unfurl the letter and read every heart-shattering word silently.

_Dear Pansy,_

_There's been a change of plans. By the time you get this I'll already be gone. Hermione and I are going away. This may be the last chance we get before the war, to be together - you know as well as I do, that we won't stand a chance when it does.  
><em>_  
>I guess we won't be seeing each other this Christmas like I wanted, but I want you to know, you've been brilliant through all this. I honestly couldn't have asked for a better friend. Without your support, I would never have been able to stand up to my family and be who I want to be, I would never have had the courage to be with Hermione – who ever heard of a Malfoy with a muggle-born, right?<em>

_We'll probably never see each other again so I wanted you to have this photo to remember all the good times. You're an amazing woman, Pansy Parkinson and I'll never forget you. Look after yourself._

_All my love,  
>Draco<em>

Taped to the bottom of the parchment is a photograph of me in a jade dress with my hand in Draco's. He gives me a twirl and my dress flowers out around me, capturing our night at the Yule Ball forever in a tiny square of paper.

Upon my return home, I'm greeted fiercely by my frightened family who are all too quick to usher me inside. In no time at all, I've figured out what's happening: _He's_ here. I refuse to look Him in the eye as He does it; I clutch my photograph to my chest as the Dark Mark is burned into my arm.


End file.
